


The Runaway Artist

by AceMoppet



Series: Mr. Detective, Mr. Author [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Detective AU, Domestic victuuri, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Vicchan Lives, Victor has questionable tea and coffee preferences, Viktuuri Fluff Bang 2019, married victuuri, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-11-16 05:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceMoppet/pseuds/AceMoppet
Summary: So it all boils down to this: Christophe Rodham hadn’t been seen for two months, and no one knew where he was, because he hadn’t told them when he left.'He really pulled a Gone Girl,' Yuuri thinks wryly.Or: In which Detective Katsuki Yuuri teams up with his husband, famous author Victor Nikiforov, to solve the case of a missing CEO's grandson. Along the way, they'll encounter love, betrayal, and food; and maybe they'll even learn the meaning of family.





	1. Black Tea with Grapefruit Jam

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I'm AceMoppet: welcome to my Viktuuri Fluff Bang Fic! This story was inspired by one of my favorite series back when I was a little kid called "Detective Feluda", who is a Calcutta private investigator who teams up with his little cousin Tapesh and a famous writer named Jatayu to solve mysteries. One of the things that always stood out to me in these stories was the importance placed on food and tea, and thus you have this little monster where Yuuri and Victor are married and solve crime while they indulge in some delicious food (hence the titles of the chapters)!
> 
> At this time, I'd like to thank everyone involved with the Fluff Bang; y'all really helped me grow as a writer, and I was so honored to write with all of you. I especially would like to thank the mods of Fluff Bang; you guys did an amazing job, and I'm so glad I got to work under you. Finally, I'd like to thank Baph, my partner-in-crime! Thank you for taking a chance on my idea Baph, even back when it was basically just "Married Victuuri sipping tea and solving mysteries". This couldn't have happened without you.
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you'd like! Enjoy the story!

“And when I came in, there she was, lying on the gro-”

 

_ Pop! _

 

Yuuri sighs and turns to look at their partner. “Must you, Vitya?”

 

Victor smiles so sheepishly that they can’t stop their heart from softening. “Sorry darling,” he says, brandishing a spoon, “But you know I can’t take my tea without a good helping of jam!”

 

Yuuri shakes their head fondly and turns back. “Sorry sir. You were saying?”

 

\---

 

Yuuri wakes up to his husband puttering around in the kitchen. He smiles and nuzzles further into Victor’s side of the bed, which, though cold, is infused with his scent.

 

Slowly, he gets up, yawning and cracking his back. The sounds scare Makkachin out of her slumber. She gives him a dirty look and flounces out the door in search of food. Vicchan, on the other hand, sleeps on unaware, legs occasionally twitching as he dreams. Yuuri smiles and gently pets him, cooing softly as he turns into Yuuri’s hand.

 

“Come on baby,” Yuuri whispers, gently scooping Vicchan up in his arms. “Let’s go join your Papa and sister for breakfast, yeah?”

 

With Vicchan snoozing away in his arms, he heads out the door. 

 

Sunlight streams through the window, covering the room in a layer of butter-soft light. And there in the kitchen stands Yuuri’s husband, one finger tapping at his lips absentmindedly as he watches the eggs crackle and pop in the skillet.

 

Yuuri smiles and lays Vicchan down on a cushion on the couch. He bites his lip to keep from laughing at how Vicchan practically buries himself into the pillow and laments the fact that he doesn’t have his phone on him. Oh well, maybe another day.

 

Turning on his heel, he sneaks over to Victor, who’s now crooning a soft melody as he cooks breakfast. Yuuri walks as quietly as he can, trying to catch Victor’s attention. And then, right when he’s behind Victor, he reaches out to snatch him into his arms-

 

And laughs when Victor yelps and stiffens. “Yuuuuri,” his husband whines, “I could’ve dropped the eggs!”

 

Yuuri chuckles and kisses Victor’s nape. “Mm, but you didn’t.”

 

Yuuri’s smile widens when he hears Victor huff lovingly. “Yeah, no thanks to you,” he grumbles, but there’s a hint of laughter in his voice.

 

“Mmmmm, I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, kissing up Victor’s neck, delighting in his soft shivers. “Can you ever forgive me?”

 

“P-perhaps.” Victor says, breathy and bothered. “If you go sit down, maybe.”

 

“But what if I don’t want to?” Yuuri whispers into Victor’s ear right before he takes the lobe between his teeth and ever-so-gently bites down.

 

“Shit!” Victor pushes him off and quickly turns off the stove before tugging him back into a kiss so fierce Yuuri loses all feeling in his legs. He wobbles, about to fall, before Victor heaves him onto the counter and pulls him back in for a make-out session.

 

“Good morning,” Yuuri gasps as Victor bites his way down his neck.

 

“Mm,” Victor hums, pressing a stinging kiss to Yuuri’s pulse that makes him groan, “good morning.”

 

\---

 

Later, they eat breakfast with Makkachin and Vicchan playing in the corner. They laugh as Yuuri’s feet end up jostling Victor’s and get into a bout of footsie under the table even as they feed each other bites of egg. The bruises on their necks stand out in the sunlight that dances around the room, and the laughter and the sun and overwhelming feeling of just being in love pull them closer as they exchange kisses between bites.

 

Soon though, breakfast ends, and after they clear the table, they part with a kiss, each heading off to their respective offices to either write or look over police reports from past cases. It’s a productive morning, with Victor completing the chapter he’s working on and Yuuri finally putting away the case he’s been looking over for a week, and so, with grumbling stomachs, they meet in the kitchen for lunch.

 

Just as they finish, they hear a knock on the door.

 

“I’ll get it,” Yuuri says, pushing back from his chair. “Sorry about not getting the dishes, love.”

 

“It’s fine, sweetheart!” Victor says, dishes clinking together. “I’ve got this!”

 

The knocking comes again, harder now. “Coming!” Yuuri calls, hurrying for the door.

 

He opens it. Outside stands a distinguished gentleman with grey hair, a sharp coat, and a severe expression. He holds an intricate, gilded cane, but doesn’t really seem to be using it.

 

“You are Yuuri Katsuki, the private investigator, yes?”

 

“Uh, yes sir,” Yuuri says, shifting his stance uncomfortably. “What can I do for you?”

 

The man’s expression doesn’t change.  _ Scary. _ Yuuri shivers, off put. “I am in need of your services.”

 

“I see. Well,” Yuuri steps aside and motions inward, “In that case, please come in.”

 

The man marches in without another word, and Yuuri is left to stumble after him, barely remembering to close the door.

 

“Yuuri? I put the dogs in our room.” Yuuri jumps, not having heard Victor come up behind him. “Whoa, steady love. Who is it?”

 

Yuuri sighs. “First, don’t scare me like that!” He hears the muttered “sorry” in his ear, and that, along with the soft kiss that Victor presses into his hair, is enough to forgive him. “Second,” he looks at where the man sits, rigid as a wall. The picture is so out of place in the softness of their home that it makes him feel on edge. “I… don’t know. A new client. Don’t know who he is, though he does look familiar…”

 

“Well,” Victor says, “I guess we better find out. After you, Mr. Detective?”

 

Yuuri snorts. “As long as you follow me, Mr. Author.”

 

With that, Yuuri walks into the living room, trying not to shrink as the man’s gaze snaps up to meet his. “Ah, would you like some tea, Mr…”

 

“Rodham,” the man replies, stern-faced. His eyes pin Yuuri to where he stands. “And black is fine, thank you.”

 

“Ah, um, ok…” 

 

“I’ll get it love,” and God bless Victor for swooping in and saving him like this. “Why don’t you sit down and talk to our guest a bit? I’ll only be a minute.”

 

“Thank you Vitya,” Yuuri says with all the gratitude he can muster, squeezing Victor’s hand as he passes by. 

 

Then he turns back to Rodham. “That’s my husband,” he says, fiddling with his thumbs, “depending on the case, he might join us.”

 

“Ah,” Rodham says, tapping on his cane, “then I suppose it would be better to wait for him. That way, I won’t waste time.”

 

Oof, that’s harsh. Still, Yuuri can understand where he’s coming from, so he just nods and hopes Victor gets back soon. 

 

In the meantime, they sit in silence, each quietly sizing the other up. Yuuri doesn’t know what Rodham thinks of him, but he personally learns a lot about his potential client in the time it takes for Victor to come back with tea.

 

First, the man is rich. Yuuri can tell by taking one look at the clothes he wears: the shoes are obviously designer, and his pants and coat look fitted, custom-made. Second, he’s a very busy man. Yuuri can tell this by the way Rodham keeps glancing at his watch every few seconds, frowning each time. He keeps tapping his cane: impatient too. If Yuuri had to guess his line of work, he’d probably say businessman, doctor, or high-ranking government agent. Those are usually Yuuri’s higher end clientele, so it’s pretty certain he’ll turn out to be one of those. Yuuri looks at his hands. His right hand seems to be ok, but his left hand trembles ever so slightly. Stroke maybe? Whatever it is, it crosses ‘doctor’ off the list for now.

 

Yuuri’s inspection of Rodham’s hands also leads him to see the gold ring. It seems old, a bit gaudy by modern standards, and if Yuuri focuses, he can see a crest. Old money then? Perhaps. Yuuri wonders if that’s where he gets his money from, but then remembers that the man might also be a businessman. Old family business maybe?

 

Slowly, a picture comes together in Yuuri’s head: a distinguished businessman who comes from old money and is used to being very busy. It’s a good picture to start with. Yuuri might be wrong, but he’s not too concerned about that, knowing that if he is, he’ll be proven wrong within the next five minutes; nothing so drastic it would make the world end.

 

Victor’s not out yet, so Yuuri indulges in a bit more observation. This time, he tries to narrow down the name Rodham. He’s pretty sure he’s seen the name before, but where-

 

He flashes back to a news article from a week ago talking about Rodham Steel stock shares. Something about the stock going down…

 

_ Clink! _

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Victor puts down a tray of elegantly arranged tea, and Yuuri has to smile. Victor’s penchant for aesthetics never fails to amaze him. “Is the tea to your liking?”

 

Even Rodham seems impressed, eyes widening for a split second before returning to their neutral state. “I suppose it will do,” he sniffs, after savoring a long sip. Yuuri hides a laugh; somehow, he thinks that’s actually high praise.

 

Next to him, Victor just nods and settles in with his own cup. This close, Yuuri can see the chunks of grapefruit jam floating around in the black liquid, and he has to bite back a sigh. He loves Victor, he truly does, but he will never understand why he insists on ruining his tea with processed fruit pulp.

 

They drink in silence, the clock tick-tick-ticking away amidst the clinking of tea cups and the  _ shrrr-shrrr _ of sips. Then…

 

“I’ll get to the point,” Rodham says, setting his half-empty cup down. “My grandson has run away, and I need you to find him and bring him back.”

 

Yuuri and Victor exchange looks. “Um sir,” Yuuri starts, hesitant, “We um, might not be the best people to deal with a missing child-”

 

“You misunderstand me.” Rodham taps the top of his cane forcefully. “My grandson is an adult.”

 

Yuuri blinks. “Ok. Do you have any reason to believe why he might have run away?”

 

Rodham sighs, aggravated. “I am sure it is because he thinks he can support himself with his art. I mean really - art?”

 

Yuuri feels Victor tense up next to him, and he brushes their feet together in comfort. “I’m afraid I’ll need more details than that.”

 

“Yes, I suppose so.” He taps his cane again.  _ Nervous habit?   _ “Very well, would you like the full story?”

 

“If you’re comfortable telling us,” Yuuri says as Victor pulls out a notepad and a pencil. Yuuri takes them from him with a thankful nod. “The more details you can give us, the better.”

 

“Very well, then.” Normally, this is where clients would settle back into their chair, make themselves more comfortable before they tell their story. If anything, Rodham grows more rigid, spine tightening to the point where Yuuri’s back twinges in sympathetic pain, before starting. “My grandson has always been naive. He’s a good child, to be sure, but he’s never been capable of making the necessary decisions to stand on his own two feet in this world. I’ve tried my entire life to get him to see reality; I even offered him a job managing at my factory-”

 

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Yuuri interrupts, “Could you please tell me what factory you have and where it’s located? It may help later on.”

 

Rodham’s mustache twitches, but he says, “Yes. I own a steel company. You may have heard of it: Rodham Steel. I have many factories around the world, but the factory I offered to my grandson is in Fairport.”

 

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, watching Victor scribble down Fairport. “I’m sorry for interrupting; please continue.”

 

Rodham taps his cane. “As I was saying, I offered him a job as a manager at my factory in Fairport. It was a good opportunity; he would be able to work his way up and eventually be the top overseer of that factory. His life would have been set. But no, he refused it to follow his  _ art. _ ” Rodham shakes his head. “What a waste.”

 

Yuuri watches as Victor’s hand tightens around the pencil. Hurriedly, he says, “When did your grandson run away?”

 

Rodham frowns. “About 2 months ago, back in January,” he says, fingers moving over the top of his cane. “At the time, I thought he was just off on a little adventure. He often does that; he finds inspiration and just up and follows it with no regard for the people he leaves behind.” Rodham’s countenance darkens. “But then last week, he didn’t show up to his niece’s birthday party.”

 

Yuuri blinks. “Ah, is he close with his niece?”

 

Rodham nods sharply. “Very close; he wouldn’t miss her birthday even if he was off chasing inspiration. And then of course there were other little things, like how he didn’t call even once, or leave a note. But that was the biggest.”

 

“I see,” Yuuri says as Victor finishes scribbling up the last of Rodham’s story. “Did he not tell any of his friends?”

 

“No,” Rodham says simply, tapping on his cane. “I asked every single one of them; none of them knew where he was.”

 

Yuuri doubts that. Then again, he has no idea how whimsical this man is. He barely knows anything about Rodham’s grandson! In fact… “What’s his name, and do you have a picture of him on you?”

 

Rodham blinks, and Yuuri flushes when he realizes how rude he must have seemed. “Ah, I’m sorry for my rudeness, but do you have a picture of him so that I can see how he looks?”

 

“...Yes.” Rodham takes out his wallet and hands Yuuri a photograph. Even though it’s been folded in half so as to fit into the wallet, Yuuri can see how treasured it is, as if the owner really cares for the subjects in the photo. 

 

He opens it to find a large, happy family all posing for a picture smiling up at him. Children stand in the front or sit on their parents’ shoulders, buck-toothed and grinning wildly. At the front center, there stands Rodham. His face looks more relaxed; so relaxed, in fact, that he’s even smiling, a tiny thing that still lights up his face. 

 

“My grandson is standing to my right,” Rodham says. Yuuri nods absentmindedly as he takes in the man next to Rodham’s side. He’s tall, taller than Rodham even, with two-toned blond hair, stubble, and a pair of glasses that do nothing to hide how long his eyelashes are. He’s wearing a white cardigan with black jeans, and his right arm is thrown around his grandfather’s shoulder. 

 

“When was this taken?” Yuuri asks, eyes still focused on the picture.

 

“6 months ago,” Rodham says, voice softening, “It was at our annual family reunion.”

 

“And he hasn’t changed his appearance since?” 

 

“No.”

 

“Ok,” Yuuri mutters, still hung up on the way the man leans into Rodham. “Mr. Rodham, would you say your grandson…”

 

“Christophe,” Rodham supplies, “Although, we call him Chris.”

 

“Christophe,” Yuuri repeats, “Thank you. Would you say you and Christophe are close?”

 

Rodham sighs and suddenly looks far older than before. “We… might be of different minds, but I assure you, Mr. Katsuki, that I love my grandson. My husband and I raised him ever since his parents died; he’s more of a son to me than anything.”

 

Yuuri looks back at the photo. On Rodham’s other side stands a shorter Indian man. The three of them, Rodham, his husband, and Christophe, all lean in towards each other, like a little unit of family awash in a sea of distant relatives.

 

“I understand,” Yuuri murmurs, then finally puts the photo down. “Do you mind if I take a picture of this for future reference? I’ll delete it after the case is over.”

 

“Go ahead,” Rodham says, finally leaning back. Yuuri takes a quick couple of pictures with his phone and hands the photo back to Rodham, who folds it and slips it back into his wallet. “Is there anything else you need to know?”

 

“Two questions. How old is your grandson, and when was the last time you personally saw him?”

 

“He’s 25 as of this last February, and the last time I saw him…” Rodham leans forward, tapping at his cane in thought. “It was the week he ran away. He came to have tea with me and my husband, like we occasionally do.”

 

“Was there anything different about him that day?” Yuuri asks, shifting closer to Victor.

 

Rodham taps his cane, humming. “He was… a bit quieter than usual. Other than that though, I can’t remember anything being off.”

 

“Did he say anything? Maybe a place or…?”

 

“Hmm… he  _ did _ mention Switzerland, but that was because we were already talking about it in the first place as a potential vacation soon. He did seem really interested in that…”

 

“Switzerland?” Yuuri says, confused.  _ I suppose it’s a pretty place, lots of opportunities to find inspiration… but so far away?   _ “...Has Christophe ever gone out of the country by himself? When he goes on his trips?”

 

“At one point in college, he did a semester abroad in France. Otherwise, the farthest he’s gone is to Mexico.” Rodham frowns. “You don’t think he’s gone to Switzerland, do you?”

 

Yuuri clears his throat. “It’s… hard to say. It’s possible. But!” Yuuri says quickly when he sees Rodham’s face fall, “It’s a long distance, so he might not have attempted it.”

 

“I… see.” Rodham sits back, face pensive. 

 

“Sir,” Victor says, speaking up for the first time. He puts down the notebook, and when Yuuri looks over, his eyes are alight with a fire, and his jaw is tight with determination. 

 

“Sir,” he says again, “Don’t worry. We’ll find your grandson.”

 

Yuuri drops his jaw in shock. “V-Vitya-”

 

“Thank you,” Rodham says, nodding lightly, “I hoped you would accept my case-”

 

“But,” Victor interrupts, leaning forward. The light in his eyes blazes to a bonfire when he says, “we will not bring him back if he does not want to come back. We’ll find him, but then it’s up to him whether he wants to come back or not.”

 

“Um, Vitya-”

 

“I asked you to bring him back,” Rodham says, frowning. He leans forward as well, engaging into a stare-off with Victor. “He’s needed here. He  _ belongs  _ here.”

 

“That’s up to him,” Victor says quietly. He doesn’t bat an eye at how close he and Rodham are now, doesn’t look away even once. “He’s an adult, and if he doesn’t want to come back, we won’t make him.”

 

“But he is-”

 

“These are our terms to pick up this case,” Victor says. He slowly leans back, feigning a casualness he likely doesn’t feel. “Take it or leave it.”

 

For the first time, Rodham looks pitiful, like he’s lost all control of the situation in front of him even as he’s desperately trying to get it back. He turns to Yuuri. “This is absurd! You can’t just expect me to agree to give up on my grandson like this!”

 

“We’re not asking you to,” Yuuri says, eyes flicking over to his husband, who still stares at Rodham with blazing eyes. He leans over to take Victor’s hand. “But I agree with my husband. Your grandson is 25 years old. Even putting aside the lack of legality, it would be wrong to drag him back here if he didn’t want to come back.”

 

Rodham looks at them fiercely for a long moment before he finally sighs, deflating into the sofa. “I suppose,” he says heavily, “you’ll want to talk about payment.”

 

Yuuri blinks at the abrupt change of topic. “Oh, um-”

 

“I saw that your hourly rate is $75 an hour,” Rodham barrels forward; he seems to want to change the subject entirely. Yuuri lets him, knowing how raw it can be with cases like this. He nods and offers a smile.

 

“Does that include travel?” Rodham asks, back to his no-nonsense style. 

 

“Unfortunately not,” Yuuri says, taking a sip of his now-cold tea. He’ll have to heat it up once Rodham leaves. “My rate is fifty-five cents per mile, although if it looks like I’ll have to travel far, then at that time, we can sit down again and renegotiate payment options.” He sets his cup down with a gentle  _ clink.  _ “I also require a nonrefundable deposit before I take up a case.”

 

“Yes, I saw that,” Rodham acknowledges, “should I pay now?”

 

“Ah, no that’s not necessary,” Yuuri says. “This is a consultation, after all. But we can finalize the contract for the case right now if you’d like, and then you can pay the deposit within the next two days.”

 

“Well then,” Rodham sighs. He pulls out a sleek black fountain pen and twists off the cap. “Where should I sign?”

 

\---

 

After going over the contract in excruciating detail (which doesn’t surprise Yuuri; Rodham’s a businessman after all), Rodham and Yuuri sign it, seal it, and shake on it. Yuuri offers Rodham an invitation for a second round of tea, but Rodham politely refuses.

 

“I must be getting back to work,” he says, pulling on his coat with sharp, brisk tugs. “But thank you for the offer.”

 

“No problem,” Victor pipes up from behind Yuuri. Ever the gracious host, he brings over a small chair for Rodham to sit on as he puts his shoes back on. “Do you have everything?” 

 

Rodham blinks in the face of Victor’s charm. Yuuri has to hold back a laugh at his mildly gobsmacked expression; no doubt he’s trying to reconcile this Victor with the one who stood up to him so fiercely before. 

 

“Yes,” Rodham says, finally recovering. He stands up slowly, but doesn’t lean on his cane. “I suppose I’ll be hearing from you soon.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Yuuri says, quickly checking to make sure he has all of Rodham’s contact information. “We’ll let you know once we start the case.”

 

Rodham nods sharply and taps at his cane. “Good.”

 

With no more words to say, Yuuri opens the door. “Well uh, I hope you have a nice da-”

 

“Promise me one thing.” Yuuri’s eyes snap up to meet Rodham’s. His gaze is grey like a storm cloud, roiling with emotions that are just barely hidden under his tightening jaw. “When you see Chris… please tell him to pick up his phone.”

 

With that parting statement, Rodham whirls out into the day, the  _ tap-tap-tap  _ of his cane growing fainter as he walks away. Soon, he disappears, and Yuuri finally leans back against the door, sighing.

 

“Well,” Victor says, a hint of wry amusement in his voice, “that was interesting.”

 

Yuuri snorts and steps inside, closing the door. “You think?”

 

Victor just hums softly and holds out his arms. Yuuri steps into them with a sigh of relief. He’s never been big on interacting with people, which could be strange considering his job, but he makes it work. 

 

Victor helps him make it work, he thinks, drawing Victor closer as his hand naturally brushes at the space between Victor’s shoulder blades. He’d told Yuuri once how utterly loved that touch made him feel, and Yuuri strives to make his husband feel loved like he should be.

 

“I should clean up,” Victor mumbles, lips moving against Yuuri’s hair as they sway back and forth in the hallway.

 

“Hm,” Yuuri says, pressing a soft kiss to the crook of Victor’s neck. “In a minute?”

 

Yuuri feels Victor’s smile against the sensitive skin of his scalp. “Alright,” he whispers, kissing Yuuri’s hair. “In a minute.”

 

\---

 

“Vitya?”

 

Victor’s chest rumbles under where Yuuri rests his head. “Yes darling?”

 

_ He sounds so tired,  _ Yuuri thinks, nuzzling his face further into Victor’s wonderful chest.  _ Maybe I should ask him tomorrow… _

 

“Sweetheart,” Victor sighs, “if you’d rather not tell me about what it is you want to say, then that’s fine. Just… are you alright?”

 

Yuuri lifts his head and blinks at Victor. “I was actually going to ask you that,” Yuuri says, leaning over the side of the bed for his glasses. He’s getting the feeling they’re about to have a Serious Conversation™️, and Yuuri wants to be able to see every little tic on Victor’s face when that happens. “Are you alright? After what happened earlier?”

 

Victor blinks, then sighs. “Ah, my Yuuri,” he says, sitting up without letting go of Yuuri’s hand, “you know me so well. Still, I am fine.”

 

Yuuri rubs his thumb over the soft skin on the back of Victor’s hand. “Yeah?”

 

“Yes,” Victor says, squeezing Yuuri’s hand briefly. “I really am fine. It’s just… Rodham today…”

 

“Shh,” Yuuri murmurs, bringing Victor closer. He pets Victor’s hair, soothing the soft trembling that had started up in the last minute. “Shh I’m here.”

 

“You know,” Victor says, voice deceptively light, “he said some of the same things my father used to say? And I just-“

 

“I know love.” Yuuri kisses Victor’s hair. “I know.”

 

The minutes slip away as they lie together like that, Victor burrowing himself into Yuuri’s arms as Yuuri pulls him even closer. Eventually, all the tension in Victor’s body leaks out and he lies there, heavy weight in Yuuri’s arms.

 

“Sorry for bringing that up,” Yuuri says. His lips linger near the center of Victor’s forehead. “I didn’t mean to. You know.”

 

“Mm.” Victor opens one eye to peek up at Yuuri’s face. “It was going to happen anyway. Better earlier than later. Besides,” Victor says, fingers threading through Yuuri’s, “you were here.” He brings their joined hands to his mouth to give it a thoroughly sloppy kiss with a wink thrown in for good measure.

 

Yuuri snorts and kisses his forehead again. Silence falls over them once more, a comfortable blanket they can indulge in while they listen to the sound of each others’ breaths. 

 

Yuuri thinks Victor is awake, though it’s hard to tell when Victor’s got his face buried in Yuuri’s chest. Still, his breathing isn’t deep enough yet, so… “Um, hey Vitya?”

 

Victor hums, nuzzling into Yuuri’s chest.

 

Yuuri feels a blush settle on his face over this ridiculous man and almost forgets what he wants to say. “If um, if you don’t feel comfortable working with Rodham, we can always cancel the contract. We don’t have to take his case.”

 

Victor huffs in amusement and looks up at Yuuri, fondness gleaming in his eyes. “Thank you love, but I’ll be fine. Besides,” he grins, teasing, “Can’t have you going back on your word now, can we?”

 

“You’re more important,” Yuuri insists, bringing up his hands to cup Victor’s cheeks. “So if you want to cancel, it’s really no problem.”

 

“Yuuri!” Victor laughs, kissing his nose. “I’ll be fine with the job; you don’t have to cancel! And even if I turn out not to be, you can always do it on your own, can’t you my detective?”

 

Yuuri pouts and lies back down, tugging Victor down with him. “I guess,” he says, tracing Victor’s face with the tip of his finger, “but I’d rather do a case with you by my side, my author.”

 

Victor smiles against Yuuri’s finger and kisses it gently. “We’ll see how it goes,” he says. Then he dips down and presses a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek. “But it’s late now. We should go to sleep.”

 

Yuuri hums. “We could do that. Or…”

 

Victor pulls back to look Yuuri in the eye. “Or…?” he says, smirking.

 

“Well… I was thinking we could go eat some ice cream? I mean, I’ve been craving something sweet since dinner ended.”

 

“Good idea,” Victor says, unentangling himself from Yuuri. “I think we still have that Neopolitan? Let me check though.”

 

“Ok. I’ll get the fancy bowls then? With the cherries?”

 

“Of course.”


	2. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The questioning begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! So here’s the second chapter of The Runaway Artist! Little housekeeping note: I’m going to be out of the country for the next three weeks, so there will be weekly updates for the rest of this story. Until the next update, which should be around Thursday/Friday, please enjoy this chapter!

**One week later**

 

“This is where he lives?”

 

Yuuri looks up at the apartment building in front of him. It looks exactly like its online photo, a pale yellow building surrounded by the greenest grass known to mankind and clusters of pink and white flowers. A picturesque sidewalk leads up to it, and with the sunlight and the light breeze it just all looks so very…

 

“Nice.” Victor steps up behind him, having locked the car. 

 

“Hm,” Yuuri says, leaning into Victor lightly, “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘manicured’.”

 

Victor snorts and takes Yuuri’s hand. “You don’t like this sort of thing then?”

 

“Well, I never said  _ that,”  _ Yuuri says, squeezing Victor’s hand affectionately. “But I do know I’d never want to live in a place where the grass looks like it got colored in by a child with a green crayon. No really,” Yuuri insists when Victor snorts again and laughs, “Just think how much water they have to use to keep the grass looking this green, especially at this time of year!”

 

“Alright, alright,” Victor says, laughter finally dying down. “You’re definitely right about that.”

 

“Hmph,” Yuuri pouts, though his lips twitch upwards when Victor sneaks a kiss onto his cheek. “Alright. So we’re meeting Christophe’s room mate here.” Yuuri pulls up the email he’d gotten a day ago, rechecking the location for the fifth time. 

 

“Anna, right?” Victor says, looking over Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

“Mhm.” Yuuri refreshes his email to see if he missed any updates. “She said she was taking us to a cafe near here. Apparently, it’s Christophe’s regular coffee shop.”

 

Victor slides his gaze over to look at Yuuri’s furrowed brow. “Are you thinking of talking to anyone there after Anna?”

 

Yuuri hums. “I’ll see once we get there.” He pulls up the email again and bites his lip. “Did we come to the right place?”

 

Victor puts a hand over the screen and slowly lowers it until Yuuri is looking at Victor, his nerves showing in his eyes. “It’s going to be ok love,” Victor soothes, thumb brushing over the back of Yuuri’s hand, “Even if it’s the wrong place, it’ll be ok. We’ll just have to find her.”

 

Yuuri takes a breath so deep he feels light-headed, but it’s enough to ground him again. “Thank you,” he murmurs, squeezing Victor’s hand again.

 

Victor smiles quietly. “No problem. Now, do you want to wait in the car? I think she’s probably running a little late-”

 

“Ah, excuse me?”

 

They turn around to see a young, black-haired woman with a slightly nervous expression. “Are you Detective Katsuki?”

 

Yuuri blinks and nods his head. He smiles politely. “Ah yes, that’s me. You must be Anna Pandey?”

 

The woman smiles. “That’s me!” she says, hiking up her yellow bag with one hand while extending the other one for a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you!” She turns to Victor after shaking Yuuri’s hand. “And you are…?”

 

Victor steps forward and offers his hand. “I’m Victor Katsuki,” he says with a grin that makes Yuuri’s heart leap every time. “You can think of me as the assistant! I’ll just be taking notes in the background. Feel free to ignore me!”

 

Yuuri snorts. Victor says this every time they interview someone.  _ As if he could be ignored,  _ he thinks fondly.

 

“Should we head to the cafe then?” Anna asks. “It’s not far from here, but the GPS almost never picks it up, so I thought it’d be better to take you there with me.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Great! You can just follow that red car down there,” she says, pointing across the parking lot. “That’s my car.”

 

“Got it.”

 

They exchange a few more pleasantries and then split off to their respective cars. Yuuri straps in to the passenger’s seat and watches Victor as he gets into the car. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive, Vitya? You drove all morning-“

 

Victor chuckles and straps in his seatbelt with a  _ click! _ “Thank you darling,” he says, eyes on the rear window as he watches Anna back out, “but I’m fine. Just make sure to guide me in case I lose Anna, ok?”

 

Yuuri smiles. “Ok.”

 

Time flies as they follow Anna through the neighborhood. It’s ten o’clock, so the morning traffic they’d faced coming up to the town is unseen. 

 

_ That’s a relief,  _ Yuuri thinks. The traffic had turned the trip from an hour long drive into an hour-and-a-half long drive. It’s a good thing he and Victor left early.

 

They pull up to a small, cosy-looking cafe. The outside patio is strung with fairy-lights, and it’s already starting to get full for the day. 

 

“Sweet Dreams Coffee Shop,” Victor reads, parking smoothly next to Anna. “Odd. I would have thought a coffee house would have a name that didn’t make people associate it with sleep.”

 

“Well, it is catchy,” Yuuri says as he looks at the purple-lettered name. Even out here, he can smell the delicious coffee being brewed. 

 

They get out of the car and head inside with Anna, who immediately gets in line. Victor and Yuuri hang back, with Yuuri deciding to get a hot chocolate and Victor deciding to get the drink from hell.

 

“A… grande, quad, nonfat, one-pump, no-whip mocha for… Victor?”

 

“That’s me!” he says brightly, taking his drink with a smile.

 

“Jesus Christ.”

 

Drinks in hand, they sit down at a little wooden table near the window. Slowly, they sip on their respective drinks. Yuuri closes his eyes as the warmth of the hot chocolate hits a chord just right inside his soul, warming his body from the inside out.

 

“That good, love?”

 

“Mhm,” Yuuri says, opening his eyes slowly. “This is really good.”

 

Anna flashes him a quick smile. “It’s the best hot chocolate in Fairport,” she proclaims, sipping at her latte. “The co-owner dedicates it to her wife, saying that it’s because ‘she’s so sweet’.”

 

“That’s adorable!” Victor says, eyes sparkling. His fingers twitch as if searching for a pencil to write that detail down, and Yuuri sighs fondly before handing over a pencil.

 

“Ah, thank you love!” Victor says, taking it and scribbling onto a napkin. “I promise I’ll give it back this time!”

 

“Alright,” Yuuri says, knowing full well Victor won’t give it back because he’ll lose it. Oh well, he thinks, taking another sip of his hot chocolate, he still has at least six more of those digging into his jeans pocket.

 

“So,” Yuuri says, after everyone seems to have settled in, “Shall we start?”

 

“Right!” Anna scoots forward, pushing her latte out of the way to place her hands in front of her. “What would you like to know?”

 

“As said in the email,” Yuuri says, pulling a recorder out of his bag and setting it on the table, “we’re investigating the whereabouts of Christophe Rodham, who was your roommate.”

 

“He’s actually still my roommate,” Anna says, “He still pays his half of the rent. Besides, it’s only been a couple of months.” Her attention turns to the recorder. “Are you going to record me?”

 

Yuuri nods. “If you don’t mind, yes. It’s so that if we need to go back over any details later; you have my word it’ll all be deleted once the case is closed.”

 

“I don’t mind.” She watches as Yuuri presses the button to record.

 

“Today is March 9th, 2019, the fourth day of the Christophe Rodham case. Our location is Sweet Dreams Coffee House. We are sitting here with our first subject. Anna, could you please tell us your full name, what relation you have to Mr. Christophe Rodham, and how long you’ve known him?”

 

Anna blinks at Yuuri’s no-nonsense tone, so he tries to smile so as to not freak her out even more. Keeping in mind what Victor sometimes says about his ‘scary intensity’, he says as gently as he can, “In your own time.”

 

“R-right.” Anna clears her throat, smiles, and says, “Hello! I’m Anna Pandey. I’m Chris’s roommate, and I’ve known him for 4 years.”

 

“Thank you Anna,” Yuuri says. “Now tell me, when did you first meet Christophe?”

 

“I met Chris in our senior year of college…”

 

\--- 

 

Victor finishes the last of his drink and leans back to watch Anna. 

 

They’ve been here for almost an hour, and so far they’ve learned that Anna and Christophe met in college and got along so well with each other that they later decided to room together here while they pursued their dreams: Anna wanting to do research, and Christophe…

 

“He said he wanted to base his art studio here,” Anna had said, sipping at her drink. “It… never happened.”

 

“Why?” Yuuri had asked. His hot chocolate lay next to him, utterly untouched after the first few sips.

 

“Well…” Anna had taken another uncomfortable sip. “He um, he lacked money.”

 

Yuuri had cocked his head. “But isn’t he the grandson of the owner of Rodham Steel?”

 

“Yes but, his uh, grandfather never gave him the funds.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes had narrowed at that statement. “Never gave him?” he’d asked slowly, “or did he never ask for them?”

 

“...Sorry. I couldn’t tell you that.”

 

At that point, Victor had intervened by placing a soft hand on Yuuri’s arm. “Yuuri,” he’d said, squeezing gently to get Yuuri to back off, “You should drink your hot chocolate! It’s getting cold.”

 

Yuuri had blinked, but realized why Victor had interrupted him. “...Right.”

 

So far, that had been the only time Victor had had to intervene, which is good.

 

They’d also learnt that Christophe often fought with his grandfather, though he spoke of him fondly.

 

“I’d hear him shouting on the phone sometimes,” Anna had said, eyes glazed over in memory, “He’d always end those calls looking very frustrated.”

 

Yuuri had furrowed his brows. “So you’d say he doesn’t have a good relationship with his grandfather?”

 

“Hm, not quite,” Anna had said, tapping her nails on the table. “He does love his grandfather. They just tend to butt heads a lot of the time.”

 

Yuuri had just hummed and chose not to pursue it.

 

“Oh!” Anna had exclaimed, startling Victor and Yuuri both. “But in the past few months, he didn’t fight with his grandfather at  _ all.” _

 

Yuuri had leaned forward. “Can you explain what you mean?”

 

“Well, there’d be no yelling but,” Anna had bent a finger and cracked it, “He’d always come off the phone and just be quiet for the rest of the day. In fact, he’d been really quiet for the past few months…”

 

Yuuri had hummed in the way that meant he was intrigued. “You say he was quiet. What kind of person is Christophe usually?”

 

“Bright,” Anna had said immediately. “Chris is a very vibrant person; he loves life and is extremely outgoing. He’s a bit of a flirt, but his heart’s always in the right place. But in the past few months… I don’t know he just became more quiet and withdrawn.”

 

“Do you think he was sad?”

 

“Not sad,” Anna had said, shaking her head, “It was more… I don’t know, it was almost like he was searching for something.”

 

The phrase, for whatever reason, keeps haunting Victor’s mind. He looks over to Yuuri, who’s finishing up his questioning.  _ I’ll bet it’s haunting him too. _

 

“Well, that’s all for now,” Yuuri says as he turns off the recorder. “Thank you so much Anna. Do you mind if we email you again in case we need anything else?”

 

“Not at all!” Anna stands up and gathers her bag and her empty cup. “I’m fine with that! It was nice to meet you both, but I really have to go so…”

 

“Oh, please go ahead,” Yuuri says. Now that he’s not questioning someone, he automatically kicks back into politeness. Victor finds that very endearing. “Sorry if we kept you too long!”

 

“No no it’s ok!” Anna says. She then looks down nervously. “Just um, please let me know Chris is okay? A-and tell him his room’s not up for sale, at all.”

 

Yuuri blinks, then nods. “Of course Anna.”

 

They exchange a few more pleasantries before Anna heads off, yellow bag clunking against her shoulder. Yuuri sighs and takes a sip from his hot chocolate, and Victor has to bite back a laugh when he wrinkles his nose. “Oh god,” he mutters, “it’s cold.”

 

“Well,” Victor says, laughter lacing his speech, “that’s what happens when you don’t drink your hot chocolate, love.”

 

“Hmph,” Yuuri pouts, and  _ God  _ Victor wants to kiss this man senseless. 

 

Still, they’re investigating, so probably not the best time to indulge in even a little peck, lest he gets distracted. “Did you want to interview any of the workers here?”

 

Yuuri bites his lip in thought. “Hm,” he says, looking around at the mostly empty coffee shop. “That might be a good idea. Didn’t Anna say that Christophe used to work here?”

 

They walk over to the counter, where one of the baristas is wiping off a spill. “Ah, excuse us.”

 

“Just a sec!” the man says, flashing them a quick grin. “Let me just finish this and I’ll be with you.”

 

“Take your time.”

 

True to his word, the man joins them by the counter as soon as he stows the towel away. “Hi there!” he says brightly. “Welcome to Sweet Dreams Coffee House! What can I get for you?”

 

Victor watches as Yuuri steps forward and says, “Actually, could I ask you a question?”

 

The man blinks and looks over to Victor, who snorts when he realizes what he’s thinking. “Yuuri,” Victor says, “not- not like that-”

 

“What?” Yuuri says, confused. “I don’t- I just wanted to ask him if Christophe worked here?”

 

“Ohhhh that was your question!” the man sighs, relieved. “Thank God! I thought you were about to ask me for my number!”

 

“What?!” Yuuri starts sputtering and Victor can’t help but laugh. “I-I- no! I have a husband?!”

 

“That’s what I was wondering!” the man says, giggling. “It makes more sense now obviously.”

 

“Oh God, I am  _ so sorry.” _

 

The man waves it off. “Don’t mention it. Now, you were asking about Chris?”

 

“Ah, yes. You know him, then?”

 

“Not well… I’d only been here for a week when he quit. But the owners do! Do you want to talk to them?”

 

“Ah, can you-”

 

“Sure!” The man leans back and calls, “Hey Marina! Srishti! Someone’s here to ask about Chris!”

 

“Alright Phichit!” a voice calls out from the back. “We’ll be there in a second!”

 

“Great!” Phichit turns back around and smiles. “They’ll be with you shortly! Now, can I get you something?”

 

Yuuri shakes his head and turns to Victor. “Do you want something Vitya?”

 

Victor hums. “Maybe just some black tea?”

 

“Alright, I can do that!” Phichit places the order, fingers flying over the computer. “Do you want some cream or sugar with that?”

 

“No thanks! Ah, but could I have a spoon though?” Victor doesn’t even need to turn to see Yuuri’s resigned look.

 

“Sure!”

 

Five minutes later, he and Yuuri are sitting at the lounge with the owners. The taller one, Marina, takes a sip of her coffee and smiles at them uneasily, while Srishti fidgets with her hands, fingers going over and over the rings on her fingers as she grins at them.

 

Victor’s tea and spoon arrive, and he burrows through his bag to find the one last thing he needs… aha! He pulls out a new container of grapefruit jam with a triumphant smile and proceeds to dole it out into his cup, biting back a chuckle as he sees the owners’ collective look of horror and as he hears Yuuri sigh next to him.

 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, “he’s an author.”

 

“And Russian!” Victor pipes up, closing the jar lid. “Don’t forget that!”

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Um.”

 

Victor turns to look at the owners, who are trying not to laugh. “Shall we begin?” Marina asks as Srishti giggles behind her hand.

 

Yuuri nods. “Yes. Um, is it ok if we record you? We’ll delete it afterwards.”

 

Srishti stops laughing and shrugs. “I’m fine with it. Babe?”

 

“Mhm,” Marina smiles at her wife, drawing one of her fidgeting hands into hers. “That’s fine.”

 

“Alright.” Yuuri presses record. “Today is March 9th, 2019, the fourth day of the Christophe Rodham case…”

 

\---

 

The questioning is shorter this time since Yuuri already knows a lot more about Christophe’s family and his personality. Still, he does learn a few new details about Christophe. For example…

 

“Chris actually helped us get the word out for our grand opening three years ago!” Srishti had said, bouncing her leg up and down.

 

“Oh God,” Marina had groaned, though she’d laughed too. She’d covered her face with her hand. “Please don’t remind me; we  _ still _ have people ask us about that!”

 

“Ask about what?”

 

Srishti had jumped to her feet, almost flipping over the chair. “Hold up, let me show you the poster!”

 

“Careful love!” Marina had called out, watching her as she’d darted into the back. 

 

Not even a minute had passed before she’d come back, brandishing a purple flyer. “Here!” she’d said, offering it to Yuuri.

 

Yuuri, of course, had  _ not  _ been prepared for the image on the flyer. “Is- Is that-”

 

“Mhm!” Srishti had leaned back, resting her head on her wife’s shoulder. “That’s Chris alright! We had no idea he was so good at pole dancing!”

 

Marina had nodded. “He definitely helped put out the word for us.”

 

“Wow,” Yuuri had said, unable to think of anything else. “Wow.”

 

So Christophe Rodham could pole dance. Alright, well it wasn’t  _ exactly  _ a detail that might be able to help them, Yuuri wouldn’t put it out of his mind entirely. He’d just… shove it into the back of his mind. Yeah, that’s it.

 

More importantly was perhaps that Christophe had donated his art to be showcased in the coffee shop.

 

“We’d told him many times: ‘Chris, you can’t expect us to take these for free!’” Marina had explained, face scrunched in frustration, “But he’d always laugh it off and give it to us, saying that we were paying him when he worked.”

 

Srishti had scoffed. “Yeah, as if the hourly wages of a barista could compare to the value of his art!”

 

“Do you still have his paintings?” Yuuri had asked, feeling disappointed when they’d shaken their heads. 

 

“Sorry,” Marina had said, tilting her head apologetically, “he took them with him when he left 2 months ago.”

 

Speaking of 2 months ago…

 

“Did he mention where he was going? Or maybe why?”

 

Marina and Srishti had turned to each other. “Hm, no, not that I can recall,” Srishti had said, tapping her chin. “Babe, do you remember anything?”

 

“Nope,” Marina had said, frowning. “We just assumed it was one of his ‘inspiration trips’ again.”

 

“Does he take those often?”

 

“No, and they’re usually never this long either.” Srishti had looked at them uneasily. “We thought he would be back by the start of March.”

 

Marina had pursed her lips and just squeezed her wife’s hand tighter.

 

So it all boils down to this: Christophe Rodham hadn’t been seen for two months, and no one knew where he was, because he hadn’t told them when he left.

 

_ He really pulled a Gone Girl,  _ Yuuri thinks wryly as he wraps up the questioning.

 

“Thank you so much for your help,” Yuuri says, putting the recorder away. Marina and Srishti nod, looking more ill at ease than when they’d started.

 

“No problem,” Marina says, thumb brushing over her wife’s hand. “Just… please let us know Chris is alright.”

 

“Yeah,” Srishti says, nodding. “He’s more than a worker here; he’s part of our family.”

 

Yuuri nods. “I’ll let you know when I find him,” he promises.

 

“Thank you,” Srishti says. “We really must get back to shop, but please feel free to stay as long as you want!”

 

“Thank you for coming,” Marina says, standing up with her wife. “Please come again soon!”

 

Yuuri and Victor say their goodbyes and watch as the two disappear back into the kitchen. Yuuri sees the way they move around each other, almost like a dance, one partner anticipating the other’s moves, and sighs. “How long do you think they’ve been married?” he asks Victor quietly.

 

“About 4 years!” Yuuri and Victor jump, only to relax at seeing Phichit sweeping behind them. “Sorry about that!”

 

“I-It’s fine,” Yuuri says, feeling his heart slowly calm down.  _ Good thing I didn’t have any coffee. _

 

“But yeah they’ve been married for 4 years now. They’re actually the local high school sweethearts you know.”

 

“Really?” Victor says, fingers twitching. Yuuri smiles and hands over a pencil and just shakes his head fondly as Victor immediately starts writing down on a napkin.

 

“Mhm! Been together for 8 years!” Phichit finishes the last of his sweeping and tosses the dust out the side door before heading back to the counter. “Well, my shift’s almost up, but I can make one more drink if one of you wants one.”

 

Yuuri bites his lip as he considers.  _ Since we’re not questioning anyone anymore… _ “I’ll take a hot chocolate, please.”

 

Phichit winks. “On it!”

 

Five minutes later, Victor and Yuuri walk out of the coffee house, holding hands. Yuuri takes a long sip of his drink and sighs in delight. “Mmm… this is  _ so  _ good oh my god.”

 

Victor laughs. “And now you can finally drink all of it!” he teases, squeezing Yuuri’s hand gently.

 

“Shh,” Yuuri says, savoring another sip. “No talk, only chocolate.”

 

“Ha!”

 

The minutes slip by in silence as Yuuri sips his drink and Victor watches the clouds, the two of them leaning back against the car.

 

“Hey Yuuri.”

 

“Mhm?”

 

“...Do you think that’s going to be us someday?”

 

Yuuri turns to look at his husband, whose gaze is still turned to the clouds. “Vitya?”

 

“The owners… they’ve been together for eight years. And we’ve been together for three.”

 

Yuuri swallows. “We have.”

 

Victor turns to look at Yuuri. “It just… it makes me really happy to think that in five years, we’ll be like them.”

 

_ Ah. So that’s what this is about,  _ Yuuri thinks, smiling softly.  _ God, he’s such a sap. _

 

“Hm,” he says mock-seriously, “I don’t know. I don’t think we’ll be like them.”

 

Victor blinks, eyes wide in shock. “Y-Yuuri? What do you-”

 

“Shh,” Yuuri says, bringing Victor’s hand to his lips, thumb tenderly rubbing over his ring. “I don’t think we’ll be like them,” Yuuri says, kissing Victor’s ring. “I think we’ll be like  _ us.” _

 

Yuuri has just enough time to recognize the look in Victor’s eyes to think _ oh fuck _ before Victor tackles him into a hug.

 

“Yuuuuuuuuri!”

 

“Victor wait! You’re gonna spill my hot chocolate!”

 

“I don’t care!” Victor proclaims, nuzzling his face into Yuuri’s neck. “Hug me back!”

 

“Wha- bu- oof. Okay.” So Yuuri sets down his cup onto the hood of their car and tugs Victor closer, smiling as Victor laughs into his neck.

 

_ He’s such a sap,  _ Yuuri thinks again, holding Victor close,  _ but damn if I don’t love him. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Grilled Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain boyfriend enters the picture in the form of a picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Ace here; I'm currently in India! 
> 
> I know I said that I'd update last Thursday/Friday, but the wifi was spotty. Luckily, since I'm gonna be in one spot for this week and the next, I'll be able to get some good wifi, and upload as soon as I can!
> 
> Until next time, please enjoy! If you like it, please leave a comment or kudos!

Yuuri wants to bash their head through the desk.

 

“God-fucking- _ dammit,”  _ they groan, astounded at their own stupidity. “Why the  _ fuck  _ didn’t I think to look through  _ social media.” _

 

“In your defense darling,” Victor says, placing a hand on the back of Yuuri’s neck. “You  _ have  _ been at this desk for the past two days. Plus you’ve been wrapping up the Amelia Rose case  _ and _ the Harold Leitner case.”

 

“Still,” Yuuri mumbles, letting their head fall back as Victor’s hands moved to knead at their shoulders, “I should’ve thought of it sooner.”

 

Victor just hums and kisses their head. “You thought of it now,” he says quietly. “That still counts.”

 

“Mmmmnyehhhh.”

 

Victor chuckles. “Alright love, time for a break.”

 

Yuuri blinks. “But I have to get this finished!”

 

“And you will,” Victor says, tugging at the rolly chair until it comes out from underneath the desk. “But first you have to take a break. And before you start arguing with me love - don’t give me that look, you know you were going to - kindly remember that you live with two needy puppies and a beautiful, wonderful husband who hasn’t seen you  _ all day.” _

 

“Hmph,” Yuuri says, but the corners of their lips twitch upward, betraying them when they need them the most. “Fine. But only for the puppies.”

 

“Oh?” Victor says. “But what about your husband?”

 

“My husband,” Yuuri says, standing up and cracking their back, “can go get the puppies-”

 

“So cruel Yuuri-”

 

“-and put them in the bedroom so that he can join me in the shower.”

 

“-really, have a care for your poor husba- wait, did you say shower?”

 

Yuuri smirks. “I don’t know, did I?”

 

_ “Yuu- _ ri!”

 

The pout on Victor’s face makes Yuuri laugh and draw Victor closer to press a kiss onto his pretty lips. “Alright, alright,” they whisper, savoring the way Victor’s breath fans over their lips, “meet me in the shower, Vitya.”

 

Yuuri’s smirk gets wider as they watch Victor’s face go red. “Mm,” Victor says, licking his lips. “Alright.”

 

“Good,” Yuuri breathes, kissing Victor’s lips one more time. “I’ll be waiting.”

 

Yuuri has to hold in their laughter when they hear Victor cursing behind them as they walk out of the room.

 

\---

 

“So,” Victor says, sweeping his long legs into place next to Yuuri’s, “we’re gonna use social media to find him?”

 

“Mhm,” Yuuri says, already scrolling through their phone. “I’ll check Insta, you check Twitter?”

 

“Oh?” Victor says, pulling up the app on his phone. “Aren’t we going to check Facebook?”

 

“Well, if we can’t find anything else, then yes. But I honestly doubt he’ll have posted anything on Facebook if he’s trying to hide.”

 

“He might not post anything on Instagram if he’s trying to hide,” Victor points out, squinting at his screen.  _ Damn,  _ he thinks,  _ I should have brought my glasses.  _ “Yuuri, would you-”

 

Yuuri wordlessly hands him a pair of brown glasses. “It’s a spare, in case you ever forget yours,” they explains as they tap away at their phone. “I got them a week ago for you.”

 

Victor looks at them and slowly puts them on, trying to cover up the way his heart is beating double time. “I like the color,” he says, voice a bit uneven.

 

Yuuri smiles, and Victor desperately wants to kiss that little quirk on their lips. “Mm, I thought you might.”

 

_...Screw it.  _ Victor sits up on the bed and leans in to kiss Yuuri’s cheek with a noisy “Mwah!”.

 

“Oh God,” Yuuri laughs, leaning into Victor, “Wow, you liked it that much?”

 

“Mhm,” Victor says, kissing Yuuri’s cheek again. It’s not just about the glasses… it’s about how Yuuri makes Victor feel so  _ loved  _ and  _ cherished  _ all the damn time that he can’t help but fall deeper in love with them.  _ If we weren’t married, I’d ask them to marry me again. _

 

Victor smiles. _ Well… maybe when we renew our vows. _

 

“Alright, alright,” Yuuri says, still laughing. “Go look at Twitter. Let’s see if we can’t find Christophe’s account before we go to sleep tonight.”

 

“Aye aye Detective!” Victor winks, making Yuuri snort.

 

For the next few minutes, they scroll through their respective devices, legs touching as their puppies sleep at the foot of their bed. Just as Victor’s eyes begin to droop, Yuuri lets out a triumphant “aha!” and turns so Victor can see the screen.

 

“Found him!” Yuuri says, beaming. “Took a bit of work, but here’s his Instagram!”

 

Victor leans closer to see the screen. The icon is of the man himself, smiling into the camera. 

 

_ Hello!  _ his description says,  _ I am Christophe Rodham, an artist and visionary. I aspire to become a leader in my field and to show my… art to the whole world. _

 

Victor blinks. “Hm. Maybe it’s just me, but the description sounds kind of… perverted?”

 

“Well,” Yuuri says dryly, “Anna did say he was a flirt. As did Marina and Srishti.”

 

Victor hums. “I suppose you’re right. I also suppose this isn’t what you wanted to show me?”

 

“Nope.” Yuuri taps on the first picture and says, “Take a look at the last picture he posted. This is from two months ago.”

 

The picture is of the view out of a car window. There’s a man outside the window, and his face is just visible as he leans down to pick up a red suitcase. It’s a tender photo, the cold morning dew still clinging to the edges of it, drawing focus to the man’s figure.

 

_ Off on an adventure!  _ the caption says, with an airplane emoji at the end.  _ My beloved beau is here to see me off! #relationshipgoals #nofilter #inspiration _

 

“So Christophe has a boyfriend?” Victor says, pushing his glasses up.

 

“Mhm,” Yuuri says. “Certainly seems that way. And,” they say, scrolling down through the posts, “it looks like he appears semi-regularly here as well.”

 

“Do you think Anna might know who he is?”

 

“I think so, because look at this picture.” The picture shows Anna and the mystery man, both hugging Christophe. They look like they’re at Six Flags, and the caption says,  _ No other people I would defy death with! _

 

“Well,” Victor says, yawning, “Looks like we have another person to question.”

 

Yuuri hums, then freezes suddenly. “Oh my god,” they say, sounding shocked, “Oh Vitya, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late!”

 

“Oh,” Victor says, blinking. He checks his phone, wincing when it says that it’s 12:30. “I didn’t realize either.”

 

Yuuri just laughs and kisses his cheek. “Go to bed,” they whisper, leaning over to turn off the light.

 

Victor blinks in surprise. “Aren’t you joining me?” he asks when Yuuri turns down the brightness on their phone. 

 

“Ah,” Yuuri says sheepishly, “well I was hoping since we had a breakthrough I’d work on this a little more. Maybe check his Facebook or email Anna to see if we get in contact with the boyfriend.”

 

Victor sighs and sits back up, taking his glasses off. “Love, you have to sleep. You said it yourself he probably didn’t update his Facebook; not to mention Anna’s probably asleep by now. You’ve come to bed late for the past two days. Work can wait; you need your rest.”

 

Yuuri looks at him with sad eyes. In the dim light of their room, they glitter and droop, tugging at Victor’s heartstrings. “I know,” they sigh, running a hand through their hair. “I just. I want to get some real headway on this case… I feel like I’ve been putting it off ever since we talked to Anna two days ago.”

 

“Oh Yuuri,” Victor says, taking Yuuri’s hand. “You haven’t been putting it off; you’ve just been really busy. You wrapped up two long cases in a row  _ and  _ just started a new one. I think this might be the busiest you’ve ever been!”

 

“Not the busiest I’ve ever been,” Yuuri counters, leaning into Victor. “Remember our first Valentine’s Day?”

 

Victor immediately bursts into giggles. “God, we were both such messes. I can’t believe we forgot all about it!”

 

“Mhm.” Yuuri kisses Victor’s jaw and sighs. “Then we both panicked and tried to outdo each other for White Day.”

 

“At least we both remembered next year.”

 

Yuuri smiles. “Mhm.” Then they sigh and look back at their laptop. Victor waits, watching them consider what to do. He smiles when Yuuri closes the laptop with a soft  _ snap!  _ and sets it aside. “Fuck it,” they say, taking off their glasses and snuggling into the bed. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

 

“Yay!” Victor cheers, throwing the covers over them both as he bumps into Yuuri in his excitement.

 

“Vitya! Not so loud, the babies will hear us!” Yuuri laughs, hushing him.

 

“Pfft, no they won’t.” Victor immediately snuggles into Yuuri’s neck, pressing a soft kiss to their pulse. “Makka could sleep through an earthquake, and Vicchan could sleep through  _ two.” _

 

Yuuri laughs again and wraps their arms around him. “Still, let’s not test that.” They yawn suddenly, so loud and long Victor feels his jaw ache in sympathy. “Oof, excuse me.”

 

“You’re excused,” Victor says, kissing their jaw. “Now go to sleep.”

 

“Bossy, bossy,” Yuuri grumbles sleepily, but they fall asleep just seconds later, snores lightly ruffling the hair on Victor’s head.

 

Victor bites back a grin. “Goodnight love.”

 

\---

 

The next day, Yuuri emails Anna to ask about Christophe’s boyfriend, and though they don’t expect Anna to answer back until the day after, she responds immediately with his info.

 

_ He was actually about to contact you himself to tell you what he knows,  _ she writes,  _ I’ll tell him you want to meet with him! _

 

“Wow,” Victor says when they show him the email. “That’s unexpected.”

 

“I thought so too,” Yuuri says, typing out a draft email to send to Christophe’s boyfriend (Masumi’s his name), “but it makes sense when you think about it. His boyfriend went on a trip and he doesn’t appear to be in regular contact with anyone. He must be worried out of his mind.” They finish typing and offer Victor the phone.

 

“Do you think he might know where Christophe went initially?” Victor asks, looking over Yuuri’s email, muttering, “ah you left out a comma here.”

 

Yuuri hums. “It’s possible,” Yuuri says, checking over the email one more time before sending it off with a  _ woosh!  _ “But not probable. This is a guy who went away for two months without telling anyone else where he was going. Why would his boyfriend be any different?”

 

“Well, he has to be close enough to someone to trust them with that, right?” Victor walks off, petting Vicchan when he gets too close to his feet. “I mean, it would be kind of odd if he told absolutely no one.”

 

Yuuri takes off their glasses and pats Makkachin’s head where she’s resting it on their lap. “I don’t know love,” they say, leaning back so that their head falls over the arm of the couch. They smile at the upside down Victor they see. “I mean, it sounds to me like he’s doing some soul-searching.”

 

“Hm, you’re probably right.”

 

Yuuri smiles wider. “Thank you dear.” Their glasses slip down their face. “Uh oh,” they say, making no move to get up.

 

They hear Victor sigh and walk closer before their glasses are pushed back up and they’re staring into Victor’s fond, exasperated face. “Why do you do this?”

 

“‘Cause I like having you push up my glasses.” Yuuri tilts their chin up. “Kiss me?”

 

Victor huffs. “As if I could refuse you.” He leans down, and Yuuri’s eyes flutter shut at the feel of Victor’s bangs brushing their chin. Their lips meet, and Yuuri’s hands come up to hold Victor’s head steady against theirs. 

 

“Mm,” Victor says, pulling back and licking his lips. “Did you use my lip balm?”

 

“Maybe,” Yuuri says, smiling lazily. “What’ll you do if I say yes?”

 

Victor hums, a mock-serious expression on his face. “I suppose I’d have to take it back by kissing you again,” he says, before leaning in again for another kiss.

 

They descend into each other, hands threading through hair and lips pushing against the other’s. Vaguely, Yuuri registers Makkachin’s huff as she jumps off their lap, and they smile into the kiss.

 

“Look at that,” they mumble, nipping at Victor’s bottom lip. “We scared off our dog.”

 

“Mm.” Victor breaks the kiss to move onto the couch. “We scared off our other dog too.”

 

“What a shame,” Yuuri says, leaning in to kiss Victor’s nose. “Whatever shall we do now?”

 

Victor smiles. “I can think of a few thi-”

 

_ Ping! _

 

“...you should probably see what it is.”

 

“Ugh,” Yuuri says, but though they groan, they still reach over to grab their phone from the table. “It’s-”

 

They sit up, eyes wide. “It’s from the boyfriend.”

 

As Yuuri unlocks their phone, they vaguely hear Victor say, “so soon?”. They open the message.

 

_ Thank you for contacting me, _ the message says,  _ can we meet this Wednesday?  _

 

“What does it say?”

 

Yuuri hums and shows Victor the message. “Looks like we’ll be meeting with him sooner than we thought.”

 

Victor’s eyebrows furrow. “Wednesday he said? That’s tomorrow; I don’t know if we’ll be able to meet with him so last-minute like thi-”

 

_ Ping! _

 

“...he says he can come down to meet us if going to Fairport isn’t an option.” Yuuri frowns. “He’s in an awful hurry.”

 

“Maybe he’s worried?” Victor says, leaning in to read the texts again.

 

“The others were too.” Yuuri types back their approval, and the meeting is set. “But none of them were in a hurry like Masumi seems to be. Even Anna agreed to meet up at least four days ahead.”

 

“Maybe he knows something the others don’t? He  _ did _ take Christophe to the airport after all.”

 

“Maybe.” Another  _ ping!  _ from Yuuri’s phone gives them the confirmation for tomorrow. Yuuri sighs and puts it away, leaning back into Victor. “But then why would he come forward  _ now?” _

 

“A heavy question,” Victor says, kissing Yuuri’s temple and bringing them closer. “One that’ll just have to be answered tomorrow.”

 

“Mm, you’re right.” Yuuri nuzzles closer with a soft sigh. “By the way love, we haven’t talked about your work lately. How’s it been going? You said you got through that writer’s block, right?”

 

“Yes! I just had the most wonderful idea!” Victor’s eyes light up, and Yuuri settles in to hear the man they love talk about the thing he loves to do the most. 

 

All in all, it’s a perfect way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.

 

\---

 

Wednesday dawns clear and bright; it’s the kind of day that tricks innocent detectives and their author husbands into thinking it’ll be a sunny day, only to drench them thoroughly in the afternoon.

 

By the time they reach the small cafe by their apartment where they agreed to meet with Masumi, they’re sopping wet from head to toe, the deluge having opened up on them on their short walk down to the cafe. 

 

“I hope we can borrow an umbrella later,” Yuuri sighs as they take off their glasses, frowning at the wet droplets that litter their lenses.

 

“Don’t worry,” Victor assures, plucking Yuuri’s glasses out of their hands and wiping them off with his handkerchief. “The Nishigoris have a soft spot for you. You could probably ask them for the moon and they’d somehow give it to you.” He brings the glasses up to his face and squints, checking for any stray droplets before handing it back to Yuuri with a smile. “Here love.”

 

Yuuri puts them on with a grateful smile, “Thank you sweetheart.”

 

They order at the counter, grilled cheeses for them both, and settle in at their regular table.

 

“I’ve got two grilled cheeses here!” 

 

At Yuuko’s call, Victor goes to stand, but Yuuri makes him sit down. “I’ll get them,” they say, blushing at Victor’s blooming smile. “You sit.”

 

Victor places his chin on his hand and leans against the rainy window, still looking at Yuuri fondly. “Ok.”

 

Yuuri smiles and turns away quickly to try and hide the way their face heats up. Judging by Victor’s soft laugh, which echoes in their ears as they head to the counter, they fail miserably.

 

“Yuuri-kun!” Yuuko greets, smiling as she hands Yuuri their two grilled cheeses. “It’s been a while!”

 

“Ah, sorry Yuuko-san,” Yuuri says, ducking their head as they take the plates off of Yuuko’s hands. “We’ve been busy.”

 

Yuuko laughs. “We figured,” she says, putting the tray down, “and I told you to call me Yuu-chan, remember?”

 

Yuuri smiles at their childhood friend sheepishly. “It might take a while,” they admit, shifting their weight. “It’s hard to call you Yuu-chan when I remember you have three children!”

 

“Children?” Yuuko snorts. “More like hellions; it’s amazing they haven’t burned down the place yet.”

 

“Oh? Are they still into baking then?”

 

“Nope.” Yuuko leans over to wipe a counter. “They’re now into vlogging of all things, which means that I now have three little pairs of eyes and one phone following me around at all times. Unless they’re following their dad.”

 

Yuuri laughs. “How is Nishigori by the way?”

 

“Doing good!” Said man leans out the kitchen window to ring a bell and hand his wife a platter of eggs. “You haven’t been by in a while! What’s up?”

 

“Nothing much,” Yuuri says. “It’s been pretty busy though. I heard the triplets are into vlogging now?”

 

Nishigori groans. “Don’t remind me! We always have a camera in our faces now!”

 

“Aw, poor Nishigori,” Yuuri teases. “Fame’s not what it’s cracked up to be.”

 

“You would know,” Nishigori grumbles. “You married an actual celebrity.”

 

Yuuri looks over at Victor, who waves back at him with a brilliant smile, and grins. “Mm, I did.”

 

“Ugh,” Nishigori groans, though he smiles as well. “You’re so sappy! Go on, go back to your husband!”

 

Yuuri laughs and nods. “It was nice catching up with both of you!”

 

“Stop by the house some time!” Yuuko calls out, handing a customer her eggs. “The girls miss you two!”

 

“Alright!”

 

Just as Yuuri sits down with their plates, the cafe doors open.

 

“Welcome!” Yuuko calls out, and Yuuri turns to see the man who walks in, coat dripping with water and a harried expression on his face. With his brown bangs sticking to his face and his wet suit hanging off of him, he would be pretty unremarkable, except…

 

“Masumi?” Yuuri says, simply speaking out loud in thought, but it must have been loud enough for the man to hear them, because he whips around to face Yuuri.

 

“Are you Detective Katsuki?” he asks, voice low with some strained emotion and hurry.

 

“Ah, yes.” Before Yuuri can say anything else, the man takes a chair and scrapes it over to their table. The entire cafe looks over at them, startled by the noise, but the man seems to not notice as he sits down in the chair. “Um, did you want to get something to eat?”

 

“No time for that.” The man’s gaze flickers to Victor before coming back to Yuuri. “I need to tell you something very important.”

 

Yuuri looks at the man in front of them. He’s visibly tired, with huge bags under his eyes and a peaky complexion. There’s a deep furrow between his eyebrows, reminding them of Victor’s expression whenever his little brother crashes over at their apartment without warning. It’s the face of someone who’s deeply worried, and Yuuri braces themself to hear something disturbing. 

 

“Alright,” they say, pulling out the recorder and pressing record. “First, please tell us your name and relationship to Christophe, along with how long you’ve known him.”

 

The man takes a deep breath. “My name is Alex Masumi, and I’m Chris’ boyfriend. We’ve been dating for three years.”

 

“Thank you. Now, what did you want to tell us?”

 

Masumi opens his mouth, hesitates, then says, “What uh, what exactly do you know about Chris?”

 

_ Oh dear. _ The last time Yuuri had heard this statement while on a case, it had turned out that the person they’d been investigating had actually been involved with the  _ Mafia. _ As in, the actual Italian Mafia. God that had been such a clusterfuck; the client had been utterly unwilling to realize that his sister had in fact been part of the mafia, though Yuuri supposes they’d have a tough time believing it too if someone told them that Mari was part of the yakuza.

 

Yuuri’s  _ really _ not keen on repeating that experience, so it’s with great trepidation that they ask, “What do you mean?”

 

“No I mean,” Masumi waves his hand impatiently, “you know how he’s on one of his trips right?”

 

“Ah yes.” Yuuri leans forward, intrigued. “Do you know anything about that?”

 

Masumi licks his lips before leaning forward and speaking as quietly as he can. “I took Chris to the airport. He didn’t tell me where he was going, but I got a glimpse of his ticket; he was going to France.”

 

_ France? _ Yuuri frowns, struggling to remember something Rodham had said… “Hasn’t Christophe been to France before?”

 

Masumi nods. “Yes, he did a semester abroad there in college, which makes his trip there even stranger: he rarely goes out of the country for his inspiration trips, and he  _ never _ goes to the same place twice.”

 

Yuuri’s frown deepens. “If you thought it was strange, why didn’t you ask him about it?”

 

Masumi rears back.  _ Shit,  _ Yuuri must have pushed too far. Before they can apologize however, Masumi says, “I… he wasn’t acting like himself, in the month before he left. He was so quiet and withdrawn, but the day I took him to the airport…” He swallows, and when he speaks again, his voice almost cracks. “He was just so  _ happy. _ He hadn’t been that excited in weeks and I just-I just couldn’t-“

 

“You couldn’t ask him,” Yuuri finishes sympathetically. 

 

Masumi swallows again and nods jerkily. A silence falls over the three of them, the sounds of the cafe somehow distant to their ears. Then, suddenly Victor pipes up. “That’s not what you came here to tell us though, is it?”

 

Yuuri blinks at Victor in surprise, but before they can say anything, Masumi says, “You’re right. The news I have is a bit more worrying.”

 

Yuuri exchanges a look with Victor. Disturbed, they turn back to Masumi and ask, “What news?”

 

“Well uh, I’ve actually been in contact with Chris ever since he left. Sparingly, but still. Which was weird too since he usually doesn’t contact anyone on his trips, but I didn’t want to jinx myself by bringing that up.”

 

“What did he say?” Yuuri says, leaning forward again. They barely notice Victor pulling their plate away as they focus on Masumi’s nervous face.

 

Masumi licks his lips. “Two days back, he sent me this.” He takes out his phone and places it in front of Yuuri with a trembling hand. The screen lights up to show presumably Masumi’s last conversation with Christophe.

 

“‘I need to find myself I think,’” Yuuri reads as Victor glances over their shoulder, “‘I don’t know who I am right now, and I can’t come back until I do.’”

 

Yuuri looks up sharply. “Is this the last thing he sent you?”

 

Masumi nods. “I asked him when he was coming back, and well. He hasn’t sent anything since.”

 

Frowning, Yuuri looks at the message again. Below it are more of Masumi’s texts, each one more frantic than the last. Yuuri bites their lip and turns away, feeling like they’ve intruded on something precious and vulnerable. They hand it back to Masumi and ask, “He’s still in France, then?”

 

“As far as I know, yes,” Masumi says, pocketing his phone. 

 

“Hm.”

 

They wrap up the rest of questioning quickly, with Masumi saying that he has to get back to work. He gets up and is about to walk out when Yuuri notices a crumpled receipt fall out of his coat pocket.

 

“Oh!” Yuuri says, holding it up. “You dropped thi-”

 

Yuuri freezes as their eyes catch the words  _ ‘One engagement ring’.  _ Before they can say anything, Masumi snatches it out of their hands, and when Yuuri looks up, he looks like someone’s shattered his dreams. 

 

“I’m- I’m so sorry-”

 

“It’s ok,” Masumi mutters. “I should have thrown that away a long time ago.”

 

He looks like he’s about to run, but before he can, Yuuri blurts out, “Does he know?”

 

Masumi’s shoulders slump. “No,” he whispers. “I was going to tell him before he left, but…”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Victor says, hand reaching out for Yuuri’s under the table. “That must be horrible.”

 

Masumi pastes a smile onto his face. “It’s fine,” he says, tone so fake Yuuri wants to cringe. “He’ll come back. I’ll tell him then.”

 

The three lapse into a silence so awkward Yuuri wants to throw themself out a window. But finally Masumi breaks it by saying, “I’m afraid I really do have to go. Thank you for meeting with me, especially on such short notice.”

 

“Not at all!” Yuuri scrambles to their feet, realizing they’re still kneeling on the floor. 

 

“We should be thanking you for coming out all this way,” Victor adds, “especially with such bad weather. Would you like an umbrella?”

 

“Ah, no thanks.”

 

Yuuri walks with Masumi out to the door. “Please let us know if you learn anything new.”

 

“Of course.” Masumi zips up his coat and turns to look at Yuuri with worried eyes. “Detective, please give it to me straight. Will Chris be ok?”

 

Yuuri suppresses a sigh. This is the part of cases they hate the most. People always want to know if their loved ones will be ok, and it  _ kills _ Yuuri that they never know the answer until the case is over. The best they can always say is this.

 

“I can’t be sure; you never can be. But one thing I have noticed throughout this entire case: Christophe is very loved and supported.”

 

“He is,” Masumi says fiercely. “He inspires that in everyone.”

 

Yuuri smiles. “That’s good. In my experience, people like him are usually going to be ok.”

 

Masumi looks at them gratefully. “Thank you Detective. I’ll keep in touch.”

 

“Have a nice day, Mr. Masumi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a timeline to help y'all keep track of what's happening when!
> 
> Chapter 1 - March 2nd, 2019 (Saturday)  
> Chapter 2 - March 9th, 2019 (Saturday)  
> Chapter 3 - March 11th-13th, 2019 (Monday-Wednesday)


	4. Frozen Yogurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new lead is found...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Ace here! 
> 
> First off, I’m so sorry for not updating for a long time; after I got back from India, I’ve been playing catch-up. I’m more or less caught up now though, so hopefully I’ll get back into the habit of updating soon enough!
> 
> As always, please leave a comment or a kudos if you liked it!

“You’re quiet tonight.”

 

Yuuri looks up from where they’d been absentmindedly petting Vicchan’s fur. “Ah, sorry. Did I zone out again?”

 

“Mm.” Victor finishes up the last of the dishes and sits down next to them, Makkachin napping away at their feet. “Penny for your thoughts?”

 

Yuuri sighs. “I was just thinking about my earlier cases.”

 

Victor knows that tone in Yuuri’s voice; it’s a tone that means Yuuri is working through something and wants Victor’s input. “Oh?” he says lightly, placing his hand next to Yuuri’s free hand on the couch and locking their pinkies together. 

 

“I was so naive when I first started detective work.” Yuuri leans back into the couch, still petting Vicchan. “People would come up to me and ask me ‘Detective Katsuki, is my daughter going to be ok?’ or ‘Detective Katsuki, please bring my brother back.’ And I was such an idiot back then that I promised them everything: yes, your loved one is going to be ok, and I’ll bring them back.”

 

“That doesn’t make you an idiot,” Victor counters gently. “You were young, and you said it yourself; you were naive.”

 

“Still,” Yuuri says, sighing, “Doesn’t take away the fact that I hurt them by bringing their hopes up.” They go quiet for long enough that Victor thinks they’re done talking, then they sigh again and hang their head. “The worst was a little boy.”

 

Victor makes a sympathetic noise; he knows how soft Yuuri is around children. “What happened?”

 

“His dad asked me to find his wife. I’d gone over to their house during the beginning of the case to see if I could glean anything from the house itself, and when I was walking out, his son stopped me. And he asked me in the smallest voice you ever heard, ‘Are you gonna find my Momma?’”

 

Victor notices Yuuri’s hand trembling next to his. “Love, you don’t have to finish if you don’t want-”

 

“I know,” they say, turning to face Victor. “I know, I just. I just have to get this out. Please.”

 

“Okay,” Victor soothes. “I’m here to listen.”

 

Yuuri nods, closing their eyes. “Thank you.” When they start again, they’re staring off into the distance, like they can somehow see that little boy on the walls of their home. “He asked me that. And I remember I kneeled down and said, ‘of course I will! I’ll find her and she’ll be back before you know it!’” Yuuri swallows. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

The room goes quiet. Then, Victor whispers, “What happened next?”

 

Yuuri huffs out a quiet laugh, though it holds no amusement. “Turns out she’d run off with another man. I caught up to her and she gave me so many excuses for why she’d run away, and how she was so sorry but she couldn’t go back and all I could think of was that little boy and how his face lit up when I told him I’d bring his mom back.”

 

“Oh sweetheart,” Victor sighs, fully taking Yuuri’s shaking hand into his own. “Maybe you shouldn’t have said that, but it’s not your fault.”

 

“Isn’t it?” Yuuri counters. “If I hadn’t said that, I wouldn’t have hurt him so badly.”

 

And as much as Victor wants to tell them that’s not true… “You learned from it, though.”

 

“Mm, yeah,” Yuuri says, tipping their head so that it rests on Victor’s shoulder. “I guess I did.”

 

It’s quiet as they sit together, and Victor rubs small circles into Yuuri’s palm as he waits, knowing that Yuuri’s not finished. 

 

Eventually, Yuuri smiles softly and says, “Thank you. I’m over it now. Mostly. I just couldn’t help but think about it after earlier…”

 

Victor frowns. “Did Masumi say something to you back at the cafe today?”

 

“Mhm,” Yuuri nuzzles their head into Victor’s neck, so it makes their next few words a bit hard to hear. “He just asked me if Christophe was going to be ok.”

 

“Ah,” Victor says, letting go of their hand to pull them closer. “I see.”

 

“Mm.”

 

They stay on the couch, once more falling into a soft quiet. Before Yuuri, Victor had always hated the quiet. Quiet meant he could hear the way silverware scraped across fine china in an empty dining hall meant to serve ten people. Quiet meant the memories of his father, always so loud in the back of his head, crept up over him and left him burying his face in Makkachin’s fur as cruel, biting words bounced around in his head. Quiet meant loneliness - bone-aching, soul-crushing loneliness - would nip at his heels as he frantically tried to meet deadlines because he had procrastinated  _ again  _ and he’d swear this was the last time but it wouldn’t be because he was just so  _ tired- _

 

Well. Let’s just say that before Yuuri, quiet had never been kind to him. 

 

Of course, the quiet was never truly quiet. Like now, for instance. There’s Vicchan’s soft snuffles as he snuggles into Yuuri’s lap. There’s Makkachin’s small snores as she lies sleeping at their feet. And there’s Yuuri’s sweet puffs of breath on his neck as they turn into him, placing a kiss where Victor’s neck meets his shoulder.

 

It’s quiet, yes. But it’s also  _ home.  _

 

“Hey,” Yuuri whispers, lips moving against Victor’s neck. “You’ve been quiet for a while. What are you thinking about?”

 

Victor sighs and rubs their arm fondly. “You.”

 

And if the way Yuuri smiles against his neck makes Victor want to pull their face up to kiss them and kiss them and  _ kiss them- _

 

Well. It’s not like Yuuri complains when he finally does.

 

* * *

 

“What’s your plan for today, lovebug?”

 

“Hm? Oh!” Yuuri looks up from where he’d been sipping his coffee and tapping away at his phone. “Well, I was thinking that I should probably talk to Rodham.”

 

“Really?” Victor says. Yuuri can hear the confusion in his voice as he puts away Makkachin’s and Vicchan’s food bowls. “Why?”

 

“I got to thinking last night,” Yuuri starts, picking Vicchan off the ground and smiling when he starts licking at his neck. “Ah, Vicchan! That tickles! Stop it!”

 

“You did bring it upon yourself,” Victor teases. “I have no sympathy for you.”

 

Yuuri huffs and tries to glare at him. It’s pretty ineffective, seeing as Vicchan’s started to lick at the corner of Yuuri’s glasses now.  “Yeah, I can see that.”

 

“You really only have yourself to blame, love.”

 

“Hmph.” Yuuri puts Vicchan down when he starts to squirm, and he darts off, presumably to find Makkachin. Yuuri sighs and takes his glasses off to wipe them down. “Dammit Vicchan,” he mumbles, placing his glasses back on his face.

 

Victor chuckles. “You were saying?”

 

“Oh yeah!” Yuuri says, sitting back down on the couch. “So I was thinking. Christophe did a summer abroad in France right? When he was in college?”

 

“Mhm,” Victor says. He rearranges a fallen couch cushion before flopping right next to his husband, tangling their hands together.

 

“Isn’t it possible he could have had a host family? One he could still have been in contact with and could have been staying with for at least the first few days when he flew off to Paris?”

 

“Hm,” Victor says. “That… does sound plausible. But why contact Rodham?”

 

Yuuri shrugs. “They did seem pretty close, even if Anna said they’d been having some trouble with each other in the past. At least, they  _ looked  _ close enough that Christophe would probably have at least mentioned a host family’s name. Maybe he can point us in their direction.”

 

“That makes sense.” 

 

“Mm,” Yuuri looks at his phone and sighs, sagging under the weight of the upcoming phone call. “Ugh.”

 

The seconds tick pass as Yuuri tries to gather enough fortitude to make this one phone call, just this one phone call when Victor’s hand squeezes his gently. “Hey,” he says softly, “how about we walk the puppies down to that dog park by the river today? We can even stop by that new fro-yo place on the way back?”

 

Yuuri looks up at his husband, emotions swirling in his chest. “God, I love you.”

 

Victor chuckles and kisses his cheek. “Go make that call, love.”

 

Ten minutes later, Yuuri gets off the phone with more information than he’d bargained for.

 

“Turns out he knew more than just the name of Christophe’s host family,” Yuuri says as he throws Makkachin’s ball. “He knew their contact information too.”

 

“Wow,” Victor says, leaning down to unclip Vicchan’s leash and watch him run off after Makkachin. “What did you say their name was again?”

 

“Della Robbia,” Yuuri answers. He smiles as he sees Vicchan tackle Makka for the ball.  _ What a feisty child. _

 

“That’s not French, is it?”

 

Yuuri shrugs. “You’re the linguistics major, love, not me.”

 

Victor clicks his tongue. “Linguistics major doesn’t necessarily mean I know the origins of each and every surname on this planet off the top of my head you know.” He pulls up something on his phone and makes a triumphant noise. “I was right! It’s Italian.”

 

Yuuri chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it.” He looks up and laughs when he sees Makkachin flopped over on the ground as Vicchan raises the ball triumphantly over his head. “Oh God, should we rein them in?”

 

“Probably,” Victor says, whistling for their dogs to come back to them. “I think they’re worn out. Or at least, Makkachin is.”

 

Yuuri snorts. “So is Vicchan,” he says, scooping said doggo up into his arms. “He just doesn’t realize it because he’s such a baby, isn’t he?” Yuuri coos and laughs when Vicchan looks at him with big puppy-dog eyes. “Aw, don’t look at me like that; you know I’m right. You’re an entire baby.  _ Baby.” _

 

“Yuu-ri,” Victor says, laughing, “Stop bullying my namesake!”

 

Yuuri looks and widens his eyes in the most innocent way he can fake. “I’d never!” he says in mock-outrage. “I’m not bullying him; I’m  _ sympathizing  _ with him. It’s not his fault he’s a baby with no brain cells.”

 

“Yuuri!”

 

Somehow, laughing and stumbling and laughing again, they make their way to the new fro-yo place. Yuuri of course, orders the chocolate fro-yo like the good, sensible human being he is. Victor on the other hand…

 

“Is that- is that  _ avocado?” _

 

“Mhm,” Victor says, licking off a dollop of yogurt. “It’s really good! Want some?”

 

Yuuri hisses. “Absolutely not! Keep that monstrous thing away from me!”

 

Victor rolls his eyes like he sometimes does when Yuuri gets overly dramatic, which ok, Yuuri admits he might be a bit over the top here, but  _ yogurt?  _ And  _ avocado?  _ No. No, no, no.

 

This is the man he married, Yuuri thinks as he vindictively licks his perfectly sensible  _ chocolate  _ fro-yo. He married a man who actually liked avocado frozen yogurt with whipped cream, peanut butter cups, and  _ oh my god are those blueberries? _

 

“What?” Victor says defensively. “Blueberries are healthy!”

God help Yuuri.

 

“You’re not kissing me until you’ve brushed your teeth at least three times.  _ Consecutively.” _

 

“Yuuri! So mean!”

 

* * *

 

“So,” Victor says, bouncing into bed. His knees jostle Yuuri’s laptop. “Oh, sorry love!” 

 

“It’s ok,” Yuuri says, fixing it so that it rests on his lap once more. “What did you want to talk about?”

 

“Right.” Victor pulls the covers over himself and settles in at Yuuri’s side. “So how are we handling the Della Robbias?”

 

“Well, I emailed them while you were in the shower before dinner,” Yuuri says, pulling up his work email, “but they haven’t gotten back yet so-”

 

Of course, just as Yuuri says that, a reply pops up in his inbox.

 

_ Respected Detective,  _ the email says,  _ thank you for contacting us about Chris. We would love to talk in detail when you have the time. He did stay with us for few days in January, but he left after that. We think he was still in France.  _

 

“So… he stayed with them, but then he left? But was still in France?”

 

Victor looks as confused as Yuuri probably does right now. “I don’t understand,” Victor says, frowning. “Why would he still stay in Paris if he didn’t stay with them?”

 

Yuuri bites his lip. “Something’s not adding up,” he says, rereading the email. “I know I was joking earlier when I said that Christophe was probably doing some soul-searching, but now his behavior seems a bit too erratic to me to be anything else. What’s even weirder is that it seems to have started months ago when he was still in the States, but none of the people we talked to have given us a reason for  _ why _ he became withdrawn.”

 

Yuuri looks up at Victor. “I think we’re missing something. And I also think I might need to head to France.”

 

Victor’s jaw drops. “You’re serious?”

 

“Mhm,” Yuuri says distractedly, already pulling up flight info. “I know I usually don’t go out of the country on cases, but I think it’s the right call this time to go myself. Rodham asked for a private detective, not for law enforcement, to help him find his grandson, which means he wants to keep this low profile. If we outsource it to the law, especially when we don’t have to right now, we’d be breaking his trust.”

 

“So… we have to go to France?”

 

Yuuri looks up. “Oh,” he says, blushing in surprise, “You’re uh. You- you want to come too?”

 

Victor blinks. “Yuuri,” he says slowly, like he does when Yuuri does or says something he doesn’t understand, “why would I not go with you?”

 

“Because it’s France?” Yuuri says, pushing up his glasses with a small self-conscious cough. “I mean, you’d have to leave all your stuff behind for who knows how long, and on such short notice too…”

 

Victor bites back a sigh. “Your concern is appreciated love,” he says, bumping their knees together, “But it is unfounded. All I need to write is a notebook and a laptop, and I’m due for a break anyway.”

 

Yuuri gives him a look. “Mhm, because that’s exactly what your editor said a week ago.”

 

Victor waves his hand airily. “I’ll just tell him I need to go on this trip for inspiration! Yakov will understand.”

 

Yuuri bites his lip again, but this time it looks like he’s trying to keep from laughing. “Inspiration?”

 

“Mhm,” Victor says, taking Yuuri’s hand in his. “Inspiration is  _ very _ important for an author, I assure you. And we’re going to the city of love! What better place to find inspiration?”

 

Yuuri sighs and squeezes Victor’s hand gently. “You  _ do  _ know we’ll be there on a case, right? We might not get to sightsee at all.”

 

“But I’ll be with you,” Victor says, bringing up Yuuri’s hand to kiss his ring. “And I want to be with you, whether that means we’re kissing at the top of the Eiffel Tower or slumming it and chasing criminals.”

 

Yuuri laughs, but it sounds a bit wet. When Victor looks up, his eyes look glittery. “God, what did I do to deserve you?” he asks, voice trembling with the weight of unshed tears.

 

Victor just smiles and kisses his palm. “You bumped into me when I was trying to buy the last available container of green tea leaves. Then, when I offered it to you instead, you took me out for coffee and didn’t judge me when I ordered a venti, non-fat unicorn frappuccino.”

 

“Oh no,” Yuuri laughs again, kissing Victor’s temple as if he can’t help himself. The little action makes Victor’s heart race like a teenager, and he tries to hide his blush into Yuuri’s palm. “No I definitely judged you.”

 

“Well,” Victor says, grinning into Yuuri’s hand. “You didn’t  _ visibly _ judge me.”

 

“Mm,” Yuuri says, extricating his hand out of Victor’s to pet his hair. “I just wrote it off as an eccentric writer thing.”

 

Victor snorts. “Rude.”

 

“How was I to know your weird taste in food was more of an eccentric you thing?”

 

Victor sits up and carefully puts Yuuri’s laptop and glasses away before tackling him to the bed. “Rude!”

 

“Hey, whoa!”

 

They never do manage to get back on track after that. First, Victor holds Yuuri down to blow raspberries against his stomach, so of course that means Yuuri needs to get his revenge by flipping them over and pinning Victor down. 

 

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you go,” Yuuri taunts, leaning over Victor’s face.

 

Victor looks up at him and huffs. “Never,” he says, trying to buck up and throw Yuuri off.

 

Oh that’s  _ it.  _

 

Quickly, Yuuri skims his hands down to Victor’s sides and starts tickling him, pinning him down with his thighs when Victor starts bucking harder.

 

Well, Yuuri thinks as his husband laughs gloriously, the sound ringing through the room, they can always get those plane tickets tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brownie points to the people who figure out the inspiration for the Della Robbias.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-out to Kazul9 for looking over this chapter for me! Thanks Bacon!


End file.
